


Runs in the Family

by koalaboy



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Club AU, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14007660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalaboy/pseuds/koalaboy
Summary: Marvin owns an exclusive nightclub in Gotham City under the guidance of Falcone. Whizzer comes in to his employ and is willing to do anything to out-live the competition nipping at his heels.





	Runs in the Family

Whizzer had only heard of the open position at the Gotham nightclub. It wasn't advertised anywhere, but word got around far more successfully amongst the unemployed in the city. He borrows the library's computer to type up a resume and cover letter. His employment history was nothing to be bragged about - jobs were in short supply and rarely paid a livable wage or had safe working conditions. Often he was better to receive benefit and pick up the rest of the money indecently. A nightclub seemed harmless enough. It was tucked away on a dirty street. The entrance no more than a door lit with LEDs and a staff exit into an alley where a few people sat and passed around a cigarette. They looked like performers waiting for the sun to go down so they could start earning money. Whizzer tucks his resume under his arm and pushes open the door. Inside the club smelled of alcohol - or like someone had attempted to cover up the alcohol with a cleaning agent, but had failed miserably - and cigarettes. The lounges were plush and the lighting dim. The bar stretched along a side wall and colourful bottles of booze lined the cabinets behind it. Behind who Whizzer assumed to be the owner was a stage. The Ghostlight was lit and a few people rushed about silently, jiggling wires and such.

"Please, come in," comes a voice from beside Whizzer. It makes him jump. The man who spoke was shorter than him but still reasonably tall. He was dressed in a suit and he kept his hands folded over each other. Whizzer catches a glance of his fingernails and the cracked dark red that stained the skin underneath. He swallows nervously and steps forward.

The man with the blood under his fingernails outstretches a hand and eyes Whizzer curiously. Whizzer stares at him blankly for a moment before it clicks and he hands over his resume.

He moves with an odd grace as he traverses the many chairs and tables to get to the owner. He hands him Whizzer's resume and they converse in hushed tones.

Finally, the owner pokes his head past the man's body and smiles warmly. It looked odd in such a place. He gestures for Whizzer to come forward and he dared not object. The owner was dressed in a fine black suit and had crisp silver cufflinks and tiepin to accompany it. He was the kind of man that Whizzer had come to know as preferring not to get their hands dirty, but wouldn’t hesitate should the need arise. He was certainly handsome and a surprising kindness radiated from him.

“Whizzer, is it?” he asks.

Whizzer nods and takes a seat opposite him.

“Marvin,” he says, nodding politely. He wasn’t the type of man who would shake hands. He had too many enemies for niceties like that.

Whizzer’s hands are clammy and he picks at his fingernails, “I don’t have a lot of references, but I promise you I can do whatever you require.”

He wasn’t a fool: the amount of money offered for this position didn’t exactly match with what was advertised. There was going to be more to it than meets the eye.

Marvin waves a dismissive hand, “References aren’t a concern of mine. I’m looking for someone willing to become deaf at opportune moments.”

Whizzer frowns and Marvin leans forward. It wasn’t an aggressive motion, but there was something behind it that makes Whizzer flinch.

“What I mean is: there may be some conversations held in here that you need not overhear. Do you think you can do that?”

Whizzer nods, his eyes wide, “Y-yes. Yes, sir.”

There was something commanding about Marvin that forced the title out of his mouth before he could even think about it.

“Tell me what brings you here,” Marvin begins, leaning back in his chair, “You’re clearly capable of occupations other than this.”

Whizzer grimaces, “Maybe. But HIV medications don’t come cheap these days and then there’s rent and—”

Marvin grunts in acknowledgement and something like empathy or pity – Whizzer isn’t sure which one – crosses his face.

“The hours are long, but I’m sure if you are willing to work with me, I could make some adjustments to suit your lifestyle. I assure you, you’ll earn more than enough here to support yourself. I don’t believe in paying my employees less than they can live on.”

“A-are you hiring me already?” Whizzer stammers.

Marvin smirks at him and holds his arms up to gesture around him, “Well, we are an hour from opening and the bar still needs to be cleaned.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Whizzer’s mouth, “Thank you.”

Marvin raises a glass of whiskey to him and offers a silent toast.

The man with the blood under his nails clasps Whizzer's shoulder firmly. He suddenly seemed less intimidating than before under Marvin's careful eye, “Congratulations, kid.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to apologise to William Finn and the Gays for writing this.


End file.
